Mystery movie quote of the week: "C'mon sporto, level with me. Did you give her the hot beef injection?"

So, now that I've made up my mind and turned my back on God and goodly things and am awaiting the first chance I get to dive headfirst into wanton debauchery, I think it's time to buckle down and really analyze what it is that I'm looking for. I've decided that I can't be too fussy. I've been accused of being far too picky about who I date and that has resulted in the most devestating dry spell of all time, so I've decided to lower my standards considerably and narrow it down to one key requirement. Just a single one.

He has to be drop dead gorgeous.

That's all I ask. He doesn't have to be smart, he doesn't have to be kind, understanding, caring, charitable or anything else at all. He just has to be knock-your-socks-off hot. Now, I know that somebody out there is just dying to tell me "But Mia... looks aren't everything" and to that I say: I know that, fool! That's the point. I've decided to stop asking for everything and narrowed my list of demands down to one item only. That, my dear, is compromise at it's finest.

Besides, someone has to take the bullet for the girl's team and I will do that with a smile on my face. What I mean is, someone has to lower themselves to date those that you politically correct intellectuals don't want anything to do with.The pretty boys. And I will gladly step out in front of the Himbo bus and get hit six ways from Sunday. And I don't even mean that in the dirty way that you're thinking.

Also, I hear some negative voices in the back there crowing "You ain't so hot yourself there, honey!". And to that I say: I know that, fool! That's the point.
The thing is, a pretty boy is more than some whimisical demand of a delusional girl. It's a biological necessity. I'm doing it for the children! I have accepted the fact that I have no choice in the matter, unless I plan on putting my children through the same ugly duckling hell that I went through. Which is tempting, but I'm a better person than that. I have certain... uhm, genetic misfortunes that have resulted in my resembling a pre-pubescent offspring of Jabba the Hut and cousin It. Nothing short of a picture perfect genetic composition will do to correct this grave social injustice that Mother Nature has performed against me. So if you've ever posed for a JC Penney catalogue, you just may be the man for me!

Ha! And you all thought I was just that shallow...

I may be shallow but I'm working my way down.